Donald Trump had a problem. A problem called “democracy.” See, he LIKED being President, (well, not the work part, but definitely charging the Secret Service to pee) but those rat-bastard Founding Fathers built all these dumb ol’ “elections” into their dumb ol’ “Constitution,” and smack dab in the middle of an economy you personally wrecked and a pandemic you disastrously mismanaged is nobody’s idea of a great time for a performance review.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes was an early adopter of Donald Trump’s unique blend of authoritarianism and kakistocracy, and it’s not hard to understand why; it takes a whole lotta institutional white supremacy to keep men so maliciously mediocre in positions of power.
There is no greater proof that the Republican base has no goddamn sense than Mitch McConnell’s consistently dismal approval rating from voters of his own party; the man is absolute ghoul, yes, and certainly he projects little folksy warmth, but he puts Ws on the board. Big ones. More than anybody I’ve ever seen.
One of Trump’s earliest congressional taint remoras, Ron DeSantis rode a wave of I’m With Stupid first to the Florida GOP’s 2018 gubernatorial nomination, and then, because learning from mistakes is apparently for cucks, to a narrow general election victory.
To level with y’all up front, I think Tucker Carlson is the most dangerous man in America. He’s the mouth of American fascism, and Donald Trump’s unofficial Chief Disinformation Dispenser, and, ultimately, a manufacturer of brownshirts.
Take an unusually weak mind, surgically remove evolution’s hard-won capacity to tell fact from fiction, fill the empty spaces with hate, and you’ve got Marjorie Taylor Greene. Drop that mind in the middle of the I-know-we’re-not-supposed-to-dismiss-MAGA-whites-as-racist-hillbillies-but-COME-ON shithole known as the Georgia 14th, and you’ve got the dumbest, most malicious member of the United States Congress, and ascendant American fascism’s loudest, vilest mouth.
When Rudy Giuliani, having just chugged a bottle of methamphetamine-laced NyQuil, stumbled onstage to deliver his apocalyptic sermon of fear at the 2016 Republican Nation Convention, you knew something was deeply fucked in this country.
Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Mike Pompeo is one of those performatively pious fake Christians who loves using his loudly-claimed-but-seldom-followed faith like a cudgel while ignoring every single word of the actual Bible, including “and” and “the.”
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
William Barr actually taught me a valuable lesson. See, I didn’t look too closely at Bill when he was nominated to be Attorney General. After Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions and the masculine toilet guy, honestly, he looked like a nice, refreshing, safe, traditional Republican. An institutionalist who could bring a little much-needed stability.
And then he turned out to be a fascist, and one of the most dangerous enemies of democracy in American history. Whoops. My bad.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
Daddy’s Little Girl
Ivanka Trump is what happens when you cross Gwyneth Paltrow with Mussolini’s dumbest, laziest aide-de-camp. Watching her try to sell her father’s fascism as some sort of pro-woman lifestyle brand, marketed in the sickliest imaginable shade of pink, has been one of the most bizarre subplots of this nightmare we can’t seem to pinch ourselves out of.
So, while Melania Trump is perhaps not as shitty as many of the crooks, Nazis, and Nazi crooks who inhabit her dirtbag husband’s world, she manages to impressively shitty in her own right.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
Kansas, Jobs, Alex Jones…Are We Doing Good News Now? Did I Miss a Meeting?
Folks, I gotta tell ya, I had a little trouble with this week’s blog. Just couldn’t get into the right headspace for some reason. Sure, there was the usual litany of abject madness to document, but there was something else, too.
I think it was maybe…hope? That’s a word, right? “Hope?” Feels kinda weird in my mouth, honestly. But good weird.
So, I grew up in Kansas, which is a wonderful place for a young progressive to move away from, and, based on all previous experience, my expectations of that electorate heading into Tuesday’s abortion referendum were…not real high. There wasn’t a lot of polling, and besides, we’re all battle-conditioned to expect that last-minute horde of rampaging regressives to emerge from yet another sewer Marist somehow failed to detect.
But let me say, it’s quite a bit more fun on the other side of an unforeseen voting surge. Wonder if Rich Lowry still feels so smug about the negligible effects of the “abortion controversy.” Of course, it’s still only one data point, and we can’t really know what it means for November until we get there, but the election nerds on the internet have been saying some mighty interesting things, and even better, the activists in Kansas helpfully left the rest of us one helluva mobilization blueprint.
But the good gnus didn’t stop there, as last week’s deus ex Manchina gave way, after a mildly excruciating waiting period, to Sinemania, and holy crap, it looks like we’re gettin’ a reconciliation bill! Then there was that unexpectedly good jobs report, plus, I found a nickel on the bathroom floor by the urinals!
Yeah…”hope.” I’m pretty sure that’s a real word, but it might be something I got from Dr. Seuss. I’ll look it up later.
Because there’s still an entire Augean stable of Republican madness to muck out, same as every week. Still, it is nice, for a change, to wade through it with some concrete reasons to believe all this asshat theocrat overreach is about to blow up in these motherfuckers’ faces.
Let’s start with the primaries.
We’re replacing What’s the Matter with Kansas? with By Satan’s Unholy Butthole What the Living Fuck is Wrong with You, Arizona? I don’t know what sort of artisanal, small-batch ivermectin they’re mainlining in that wing of the death cult, but it is very, very bad for the part of the brain that evaluates leadership qualities.
Gubernatorial candidate Kari Lake damn nears blacks out a conspiracy loon bingo card, yet still pales in comparison to the odious Blake Masters, who’ll fit right in on the unfit fuckwit Senate kickline, right between Herschel Walker and Dr. Oz.
I know I toss the word “kakistocracy” around a lot, but what else do you call this? If you were playing a game called What Job Should Herschel Walker Have, how many generations of your family would live and die before anyone suggested “United States Senator?”
Meanwhile, Tudor Dixon, the whackjob picked to take on Governor Whitmer in Michigan, is “only” an election denier and an anti-abortion fanatic, so she hasn’t generated much national media attention, since she hasn’t said anything like, I dunno, “George Soros puts carcinogens in Levi’s to give Real Americans butt cancer.” Yet.
At least the Missouri branch passed on both the violent sex criminal and the celebrity gun-pointer, though the Eric who emerged dominant from that particular turd-wrestling pit looks plenty disastrous on his own.
Speaking of, we really must mention the Velveeta Vulgarian’s mega-weaselly “I’m endorsing ALL THE ERICS tee hee” bet-hedging here, because it was such an exquisitely Trumpian piece of business, even more pathetic than the whole wait-till-the-polling-tells-me-who’s-going-to-win-and-I’ll-endorse-that-guy act he’s been pulling all year. Inheriting billions of dollars must be a ton of fun, but if it came with an inescapable, debilitating fear of being perceived as a loser, I think I’d pass.
(Spending every waking moment of your life in mortal terror that everyone around you thinks you’re a loser is what makes you a loser, by the way, you massive fucking loser. It takes literal cult-level indoctrination to make people overlook your towering loserdom.)
Anyhoo, all the usual wingnut primary rituals were observed; the losers’ furious proclamations of cheating, rigging, and general Jewish space-lasering; as ever, the smaller the vote total, the louder and shriller the yapping. The winners won fair and square of course, though the road to November runs through antifa country, and you best believe any voter who doesn’t want to be governed by meth-huffing freaks is a deep state plant, and probably a pedophile.
The Senate GOP finally ended their self-destructive shitfit, and passed the PACT Act, perhaps understanding this isn’t the moment to provide extra evidence of their loathsomeness to the public. Sure was fun watchin’ ‘em squirm, though. Shit, any time Ted Cruz feels like picking a messaging fight with Jon Stewart, I’m clearing my calendar.
Still, hydroxychloroquine spokesdolt Ron Johnson helpfully reminded the electorate that, in addition to their radioactive culture war aggression, Republicans would very much like to slash popular safety net programs, like Medicare and Social Security. Every day RoJo manages to get his shirt on without suffocating himself is a fucking miracle.
In the interest of full disclosure, I am hereby announcing that, like damn near every member of the Trump Administration, my text messages from January 6th, 2021 have mysteriously vanished, though mine revolved around a far humbler criminal conspiracy, to procure a small number of, let’s call them “special” brownies, from a gentleman of my acquaintance who prefers to remain anonymous at this time. I apologize and pledge to behave in exactly the same manner going forward.
Ron DeSantis, as part of his ongoing audition to become America’s Next Top Autocrat, suspended a democratically elected state attorney for refusing to flog all the filthy sluts who don’t understand that Ron DeSantis owns their bodies. You know, small government stuff. Not the move I’d make, post-Kansas, but then, I’m not a goose-stepping thug.
And the Deposed Dotard teamed up with the journalist-dismembering House of Saud to play some controversial new version of golf where, as I understand it, instead of putting, you rub blood money all over your nude, flaccid body. Box office for this revolutionary collision of brazen corruption and golf’s intrinsic boringness was, well, on-brand.
And yes, while Wee Donnie One-Term throws poorly-attended golf parties for terrorists, Joe Biden’s more inclined to send freaky, sci-fi knife missiles to kill them, which would probably give those sagging approval ratings a boost, if we still lived in a society with a bipartisan consensus that terrorism is bad.
While we’re on that topic, you remember last week, when it took days of public pressure to make Doug Mastriano grudgingly condemn his white nationalist buddy, who runs a social media hate site? Well, the response from the Gab “community” was a full fucking fusillade of anti-Semitic threats, which is absolutely bone-chilling, occurring so close to a Republican gubernatorial campaign, and I just had a stray vision of some future GOP where Dougie here is the venerable statesman, urging moderation as Donald Trump III calls for the forced sterilization of everybody who’s left-handed, and I don’t know whether to chuckle or weep.
The whole damn American Right, top to bottom, keeps on fumbling with fascism’s bra clasp in some shadowy corner of the Romney family car elevator, but I guess we’re numb to that by now. Vikky Orbán gave his sinister little Fascism For Dummies seminar at CPAC, to an audience of aspiring concentration camp middle managers, and America barely blinked.
You scroll right past articles about Capitol rioters getting sentenced, and some epidemiologist-threatening weirdo getting sentenced, with a vague sense that yeah, there’re always a bunch of domestic terrorists workin’ their way through the justice system nowadays, but then you land on New York Cop Bought Rifle for Neo-Nazi ‘Rapekreig’ Marine Who Planned Synagogue Attack, which is maybe the most disturbing procession of words I’ve ever encountered, and you think maybe we shouldn’t docilely accept this insanity as our new normal.
…still, at a certain point, Republicans’ll run the numbers, and “evolve” on felon voting rights, that’ll be something. All kindsa logistical difficulties pop up when your turnout strategy relies on inciting terrorist violence.
If you’re wondering why I gouged my eyes out, it was Alex Jones’ testimony this week. It’s delightful, of course, to finally bleed some cash out of that hate-engorged tick, but his shamelessness in the face of all the harm he’s caused, I just find it unbearable.
…the text messages bit was pretty sweet, though.
Those texts are on their way to every law enforcement outfit from the feds to the January 6th commission to the Teen Titans, by the way. Just think, Alex, all that time you spent terrorizing grieving families, you could’ve been googling “how can you tell if your lawyer’s brain is actually a half-consumed pudding cup that hasn’t been stored properly?” instead. Ah, hindsight.
Yeah, it’s been pretty gross out there, but I’m still dancin’, because KANSAS, y’all. It’s a whole dang new world out there; you stay safe so you can enjoy it with me.
I got big plans for that nickel, too.